


Resolution

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: BAMF!Q, Canon-Typical Violence, Double O's to the rescue, Kidnapping, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Sass Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: The new year is a time for resolutions - some are good and some are bad. Q's encounter with a bad resolution prompts him to rethink his own.





	Resolution

 

He’d been attracted to the Quartermaster the first time they’d met. The Quartermaster, of course, had been a consummate professional, ignoring their mutual attraction, and that just made his interest in the man that much stronger. They were perfect for each other.

He took every chance he could find to spend time in Q-Branch, trying to learn more about the Quartermaster. He didn’t miss the way the Quartermaster couldn’t take his eyes off  _ him, _ either. 

He’d even spoken to the Quartermaster a few times, hoping the man would allow their mutual interest to show. The Quartermaster, though, continued to play hard to get. Truthfully, while he was enjoying their little game of denying their pleasure, it was time to move things along. 

It was a new year, and he had a resolution — the Quartermaster was going to go out with him.

 

~~~~

 

The problem with his plan was that the Quartermaster refused to answer his invitations properly. In fact, the Quartermaster seemed to be ignoring him. It was all an act, of course. The Quartermaster obviously wouldn’t want the Double O’s thinking he was playing favorites.

He put the finishing touches on this invitation, smiling in satisfaction. It was perfect. The Quartermaster would be impressed, and finally come to him at the right time and place. Then they would be together, united in their love.

 

~~~~

 

Q looked up at the building in front of him, and then frowned at the paper in his hand. Did he have the correct address? It certainly didn’t look like a place that James or Alec would choose when setting up a meeting with him. James would pick a 5-star hotel, and Alec would find a charming bed and breakfast.  _ This _ was a converted warehouse full of flats. He brushed aside his uneasiness that he still wasn’t sure which of his pain in the arse Double O’s had left him the message.

The coded note had appeared on a bench in Q-branch, addressed to him. No one had noticed who left it, and the cameras, vexingly, didn’t fully cover that spot. The obvious culprits, especially after he had deciphered the almost insultingly simple code, were James and Alec. ‘Come to the address below at 1900 tonight, sweet Quartermaster, and we will never part.’ He just wasn’t sure which one. The wording seemed rather heavy handed for James, but a bit out of character for Alec — unless he was being playfully over elaborate. Of course, it was equally likely to be both of them. They had discussed planning a weekend getaway; Q hadn’t expected it to be  _ this _ weekend, though. 

He looked back up at the building again. What did his troublemaking pair of Double O’s have planned?

 

~~~~

 

The building had been divided into eight flats, and the one he needed was on the second floor. He huffed in irritation as he took the stairs. Couldn’t they have found a place with a lift?

2B’s door seemed no different than any of the other doors in the hallway. Q knocked, three sharp raps. Heavy footsteps from within the flat alerted him. No Double O would make that much noise. He took a step back, turning to walk away.

Too late.

The door opened. “Quartermaster! Wait! No, don’t go!” There was a strange note of desperation in the man’s voice.

Q didn’t look back at the unfamiliar voice, just kept walking toward the stairs — until a gun cocked behind him. He froze.  _ Shit.  _ Not only might a bullet go through him, but it could easily go through a wall or floor, striking an innocent.

“Come back here, Quartermaster.” The voice turned grim, low and deadly as a Double O’s. “Hands in the air.”

He reluctantly turned around, hands raising upward. He was never going to live down the teasing that he’d gone willingly to his own kidnapping. Of course, he might not actually survive, but he tried not to think about that. He had to focus on escape. He kept his face expressionless as he studied the man holding a Glock on him. Taller than him; heavier, too — although that wasn’t muscle, it was out of shape pudge. The man’s eyes felt greedy as they roved over him, leaving Q feeling slightly dirty. There was something oddly familiar about the man. Had he seen the man around MI6? 

“Come inside, Quartermaster. It’s time you got to know me as well as I know you.” The man waved the gun’s barrel to urge him into the flat.

Q debated his chances of disarming the man and getting away. Not good at the moment, he was too far away. Resigning himself to an uncomfortable situation, he went into the flat, hoping to pass close enough to the other man that he could attempt to gain control of the gun.

Unfortunately, the other man seemed as though he had some notion that Q was dangerous, and stepped back to give Q plenty of room to go through the door. The flat turned out to be rather nice, if small. It was neat, uncluttered  — almost as impersonal as a hotel room. A sparsely furnished lounge directly ahead, kitchen to the right and a hall to the left. Bedroom and bath, presumably. Q turned around at the couch to keep his captor in sight. Odd. The man was grinning at him.

“I’m so glad you accepted my invitation this time, my sweet Quartermaster. I’d almost given up on being subtle. I know, you don’t like to show favoritism because the Double O’s can be pissy lot,” the man’s face took on a look of reproach, “but the sooner they know you and I are together, the sooner you can forget about them bothering you.”

Q fought to keep his surprise off his face. What the hell was this man talking about? “I’m sorry, but… Who  _ are _ you?”

The man gaped at him. “You know who I am! We speak almost every day!”

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are.” Q let apology color his voice. Should he play into his captor’s delusions of relationship? He eyed the man in distaste.  _ So _ not his type. He had no idea how his Double O’s could pretend enough interest in someone to seduce them. Well then. If seduction was out, that left him only one course of action. “You  _ do _ work at MI6, correct?”

“You  _ know _ me! We’re in love!” 

Q fought the urge to roll his eyes. The man was clearly delusional. “You’re holding a weapon on me, and you expect me to be in love with you?”

The man sputtered incoherently, seemingly unable to figure out a response to that.

“I don’t even know your name,” Q continued his attack, remorseless. Pressing the point might be dangerous, but he needed the man off guard if he was to have any chance of overpowering him. He sidled closer to the couch. The lamp on the end table was almost close enough to grab.

The man deflated, hunching in on himself, looking confused. “You don’t… you don’t recognize me? But… but you… I don’t… You love me, I know you do!  _ How can you not know me?” _ The man shouted the last and Q took a step back, concerned the man would try to hit him. If he timed it correctly, though, that might give him his chance. Instead, the man just stared at Q, breathing heavily, while searching for something — some sign of recognition? The man obviously didn’t find what he was looking for. Without warning, the man screamed, a wordless steam kettle sound of rage and frustration, and stormed off to pace the flat, muttering to himself.

Q kept a wary eye on him, waiting for a chance to jump him and get the gun. Unfortunately, the man waved the gun wildly as he paced — trying anything at this point was a recipe for getting injured or worse. This was when one of his impulsive Double O’s would give him a heart attack by attempting to escape while on mission. Being on this side of things gave Q a different perspective, however. Perhaps it was less impulsiveness and more sheer boredom at the villain’s histrionics. He resolved to strive for a bit more sympathy for his hot-headed agents next time. He headed toward the door. “If that’s all, I’ll just be going.”

He didn’t get far before the man stepped between him and the door and snarled, “Where do you think you’re going, Quartermaster? You can’t leave me! I’ll prove you love me!” The man grabbed him, trying to kiss him.

Okay. That did it. Enough was enough. Q grabbed the man’s shoulders, pulling him closer, and kneed him in the groin. As the man double over in pain, dropping the gun, Q shoved him down and kicked the gun across the room.

The man went sprawling, off balance, and landed face first against the coffee table, knocking it into the couch and end table. The lamp on the end table teetered and crashed to the floor.

As if that were a signal, the door burst open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back into the two armed men entering, one aiming high and the other aiming low.

“Q!” James called straightening from his crouch. “Are you all right?”

Alec moved past his partner, ignoring Q, to hold his gun on the kidnapper. He looked unimpressed at the moaning man lying against the coffee table. “Who is this idiot?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. He might be MI6, but I’ve no idea who he is.”

“You broke by dose!”

“Shut it, you,” Alec ordered, “or I’ll do worse. I’m not happy that whatever you did caused the Quartermaster to break your nose.”

James holstered his Walther. “Q, answer me. Are you injured?” He ran his hands over Q’s arms, looking for signs of injury.

Q shrugged James off. “I’m fine. What are you two doing here, anyway?” 

Alec answered while keeping his attention on his prisoner. “We went to visit you in Q-Branch. Your assistant was surprised to see us — he thought you were meeting us for a date.”

“He showed us the note with your translation,” James took up the tale, looking a bit put out that Q wasn’t allowing himself to be checked over. “We called security for backup and headed over here.”

Q glanced toward the door with a frown. “You called security? Then when are they?”

James shifted, looking embarrassed. “We, uh…”

“We were speeding Q,” Alec supplied cheerfully. “We left them behind.”

“Of course you did.” Q heaved a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to go home to his cats and put his feet up with a cup of tea. He had responsibilities and a mess to clean up, however. He eyed the still moaning mess on the floor. “Stay here with him, then turn him over to security when they get here. I’m going back to Six to write my report.”

James exchanged an alarmed look with Alec before turning back to Q. “By yourself? No. I’ll drive you. Alec can stay here and drive your car back.”

Q hesitated. He didn’t need to be coddled, but James and Alec both had a Double O’s overprotective streak. James watched him, looking adamant.

“If you prefer,” Alec said, sounding overly reasonable, “I’ll drive you back, and James can stay here. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

James muttered something under his breath that Q couldn’t quite hear as he aimed a disgruntled look at his partner.

Q huffed. There was no getting out of having one of them escort him back to MI6. “Fine. James, then. But Alec, make sure you turn this cretin over to security without further damage. They can bring him back to Six for interrogation —” he ignored the kidnapper’s squawk of fright, “and then get takeaway. I’m suddenly in the mood for a quiet night in.” And, he was sure, lots of pampering from still-distressed lovers.

 

~~~~

 

Q sighed happily as he sank back against Alec, letting the warm, sudsy water of the bath wash over him. Opposite them, James picked up his right foot and lightly massaged it. He’d never been so happy that he’d paid an inordinate amount of money for this flat. The palatial bathtub alone was worth it. 

Alec twisted slightly to pick up a tidbit from the tray beside the tub and offered it to him. Q grinned as he took the treat, swiping Alec’s finger with his tongue. They hadn’t gotten takeaway at all. Instead of returning to MI6 with the prisoner, once Alec had turned the man over to security, he’d gone to the market for some supplies, than had gone home to prepare a bathside picnic of finger foods.

Q had been worried about Alec’s whereabouts when he hadn’t shown up at MI6, but James had been blithely unconcerned. James put down his right foot and picked up his left. His eyelids drifted closed as he enjoyed the pampering.

Alec stroked Q’s chest down to his side. “What did M say about you going off to unvetted assignations alone?”

“What the hell are you doing, Alec? Not now!” James hissed.

The feel of Alec’s chuckles rumbling along his back made Q grin. “We’re not going to get anywhere by ignoring it, James. Might as well talk about it now.”

James just snorted, making his opinion perfectly clear. He finished with Q’s foot and released it, leaning back against the tub.

Truthfully, though, Q didn’t mind talking about it. He was enjoying the pampering, but, as M had made clear, he’d been damn lucky, and he needed to admit that. “I was cocky.” He waited a moment for the juvenile snickering to die down.

“I had suspicions about the note, but chose to ignore those suspicions. M was rightly annoyed.” Q slid his foot along Alec’s calf and then James’ thigh. He figured that distracting his lovers during this discussion would be an excellent strategy. 

Alec embraced him from behind, nuzzling his ear. “And you’re not going to go off alone ever again, unless you’re sure you are meeting one of us.”

James’ foot slid against his side. “Or we’ll make sure there’s a Double O guarding you every hour of every day.”

_ Crap. _ They were using his own tactics against him. They’d follow through on their threat, too. “I already promised M that I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Alec nipped his ear. “We’re not M.”

“You need to promise us, too,” James chimed in. His foot shifted to rub against Q’s cock.

Q groaned. They were so unfair. “All right, I promise. But you two need to promise something too.”

James leaned forward and took his hand. “Anything you want, Q.”  

“I won’t make you two promise never to go dark again when you’re on a mission, but I do want you to try to get word to me that you’re all right.”

“Q,” Alec kissed along his neck, lifting away just long enough for each word. “We might not be able to every time.”

“But.” He tilted his head to give Alec better access, humming appreciatively. 

James levered himself up to lean over Q, murmuring against his lips, “But. We will try.”

 

~~~~

 

Much later, Q lay sandwiched between James and Alec in their bed. It was a new year, and as far as New Year’s resolutions went, theirs weren’t quite usual, but for them, they were perfect.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication. Feel free to stop in to say hi - you can find me on Tumblr at leavesdancing.tumblr.com, or at my Bond fandom tumblr, zephyrfox.tumblr.com.


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